


History III

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Pre-White House (West Wing), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-23
Updated: 2008-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: "How many times do I have to tell you, Leo McGarry?  I'm not leaving you."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Chapter 12

Early, early morning,   
Atlanta, Georgia  
Day 5 Before Election 1998

He wasn’t sure if he felt her stir against him or just knew her breathing had changed, but he could tell that she was beginning to waken. For the past half hour, he had been content to hold her in the dark, knowing that their time was limited, but just wanting to feel her in his arms, her hair soft under his caress as he developed the beginnings of an idea in his mind. In their sleep, they had settled tight against one another, their legs wrapped together, her face tucked into his shoulder, cheek against his shirt.

His hand slowed against her hair as he remembered another night and morning like this, five years ago in Manchester, the first time they had awakened together. He could still see the absolute fear in her eyes and hear the fury in her voice when she had threatened him bodily harm if he left the farm. Thoughts flooded through his mind, unbidden: how much force her hands had held when she had pushed him onto the bed in the Bartlet’s guest cottage and literally sat on him to keep him there; how her lips felt against his; how her tears had mixed with his but both had turned to laughter throughout the night. She became his salvation, his absolution, his escape. Jed may have been the one he called when he reached bottom, but Margaret was the one who had kept him sane for those three days before he left for Tucson. 

Moving his hands down her back, he skimmed his fingers over the satin, the warmth of her skin seeping into his touch. He felt her hand tighten against his arm, and smiled as she stretched her legs against his. 

“What time is it?” Oh, how he had missed that morning voice; low, still tinged with sleep, a lilt that stayed with him forever.

One hand continued rubbing random patterns on her back as he glanced at his watch, seeing the luminescent dial. “It’s four. Go back to sleep.” Settling his left hand on her hip, he pulled her tighter against him, wanting to feel as much of her as possible.

“How long did I sleep?” Her words were mumbled into his chest.

“Two hours. Go back to sleep.”

Her fingers stretched against his chest, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “Why aren‘t you asleep?” 

“’Cause I’m awake. Go back to sleep.”

Her head lifted off his chest, propping on one hand as the other snaked around his waist. “Why do you keep telling me to go back to sleep?”

His eyes only inches from hers, he felt himself being drawn into her soul, her gaze unwavering.

’Cause I want to hold you as long as I can; I want us to hold each other as long as we can.”

Her hand tightened against his side. “And you can’t do that if I’m awake?”

“I’m afraid to do that if you’re awake.” He let his hand slide down her hip, his palm cupping the back of her thigh, pulling it firmly against his, her satin pajamas sliding against his wool pants.

“Well, that kinda leaves me out of the fun, doesn’t it?“ 

Even in the shadows, he caught the faint smile that crossed her lips, and responded with one of his own. Her hand slid down and captured his, pulling it up to his chest. He watched the smile fade from her lips as he felt her finger rub across his wedding band, and his heart skipped a beat.

Sighing, he clutched her hand, not wanting her to turn away. “Mary Margaret, we need to talk.”

“I thought you wanted me to go back to sleep.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but at least she didn’t pull away; as a matter of fact, she rolled her body harder against his, pushing him into the leather.

He responded by pressing his hand hard on her back. “I need to tell you something.” He waited for her eyes to meet his again, his stomach knotting up as she finally lifted her gaze. “I don’t know if this is the best time; hell, I don’t know if there is a best time. But I need to tell you this now.” Pulling a deep breath, he let his words come in a rush. “I love you; I‘ve loved you for a while; I‘m in love with you.”

He watched closely as her eyelashes fluttered, hiding her eyes for the barest of seconds. Feeling the tug on his hand, he reluctantly let her hand out of his grasp, only to feel her fingers slide up his jaw. Her lips opened, then closed.

“Say something, Margaret. Say anything.” He wasn’t above begging, and he knew she could hear it.

Her hand slid around the back of his neck, pulling him forward until their foreheads touched, her lips only inches from his. “What do you want me to say? That I’ve been in love with you for five years and five months?”

Even as he was comprehending her words, he could feel them against his skin. “Have you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is it because…”

Her words were quick, sharper than before. “Don’t ask that. You know better.”

“Then say it.”

Her fingertips pressed against his neck, her words whispering against his cheek. “I’m in love with you, too. I’ve been in love with you for five years and five months.”

Neither one of them moved, wrapped in darkness and silence and each other. He could feel her heartbeat against his own, not quite sure he could separate them, not sure if he *wanted* to separate them. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

Sighing, he started rubbing her back again. “You want to know what I’ve decided?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t have a plan.”

He smiled, knowing she was smiling too, even if he couldn’t see it completely in the darkness. “Ya think?”

“Yeah.”

“You may or may not like it.” He wanted to warn her, give her a way to back out.

Her legs stretched again, pulling back a few inches as she flexed her ankles, rubbing her bare foot across pants leg. “We won’t know until you tell me, will we?”

“I need to say this without you interrupting, okay?” He felt her nod against him, her hair sliding against his cheek, and he continued, low voice rumbling in the darkness. “In five days, we face an election. So for the next five days and five nights, we do nothing. If we win, I won’t do anything to hurt Jed’s administration, of which you and I both will play a large part. I won't do anything to hurt you or ask you to compromise. But if we lose, then it’s a different ballgame on night six. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yeah.” He felt her chest expand as she took a deep breath and continued. “Are you still in love with Jenny?”

Biting back a curse, he swallowed hard, not wanting to lie to her, but also knowing that she might not understand it. “I love Jenny. But I’ve figured out over the past few days and few hours that I love her for what we had once upon a time and for what we both were. She’s the mother of my only child, and I don’t want to willingly hurt either one of them any more than I already have. If we win this election, I have to put the ball in Jenny's court.” Using his legs, he shifted her backwards, feeling her hand tighten against his neck as she rolled against the cushions. Leaning over her, he ran his fingers up her neck, barely touching her lips. “But this is what matters, Mary Margaret Montgomery. One way or another, I need to know that you’re with me. It’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry, because I don’t want to hurt you either. But I need you.”

Her lips parted under his touch and he could feel them tilt upward. “How many times do I have to tell you, Leo McGarry? I’m not leaving you.”

“No matter what?” Gently sliding his thumb over her cheek, he wiped away the tear that had slipped down her face. 

“No matter what.”


	2. History III

Chapter 13  
Morning 3 before Election 1998  
Flipping his phone shut, he slid it into his coat pocket. “I guess you heard that?”   
He watched as she shuffled files on the table, moving the blue folders to the front as she packed their briefcases; he didn’t really understand her system, but didn’t dare ask.  
Finished with his briefcase, she reached for her own, looking toward him for just a second. “Kinda hard not to, Leo. You weren’t real subtle there, you know.”  
Moving toward the table, he stood beside her, knowing better than to offer to help. “Well, I couldn’t very well tell Jenny not to come, could I? At least it’ll just be for the fundraiser, then she’ll leave, like always.”  
Her hands stilled on the folder as her eyes met his, frowning. “Leo, you don’t have to do that.”  
“Do what?”  
“Don’t make it sound like you dread it. You don’t have to because of me.”  
He reached for his coffee mug, wrapping his hand around the warmth it offered. “I do dread it, Margaret. I dread hurting you, and I dread hurting her. I wish to God that things were different..”  
Moving her hands again, she turned back to her briefcase as she shook her head. “Don’t wish, Leo. We’ll be okay, no matter what the outcome.”  
Taking a long sip from the mug, he shook his head. “God, Margaret, I wish…”  
“Don’t wish. Don’t worry. Don’t think. Remember, that’s my job… at least for three more days.”  
*********************  
Night 3 before Election 1998  
“Josh, who’s that woman dancing with Leo?”  
Following her gaze, he looked out onto the dance floor. “That’s Jenny.”  
“Who’s Jenny?”  
“Who’s Jenny?” His grin stretched across his face as he turned to face her. “Donnatella Moss, are you telling me there’s something you don’t know about someone in the Bartlet campaign? Jenny McGarry is Leo McGarry’s wife.”  
Her eyes widened as she looked at him incredulously. “That’s his wife?”  
“Yeah, wife. You know, married for a gazillion years, have a child together. Wife.”  
“But I though...” She let the sentence fade away, turning back to look at the couple in question.   
“You thought what?”  
“Nothing.” Her gaze stayed on Leo and Jenny, noting how they flowed together as they moved, but also seeing the guarded look on Leo’s face as they talked.  
His tone wheedling, he tugged on her arm. “Come on, Donna. You can’t leave me with nothing.”  
“Yes I can, because I just did.”  
“Donna….”   
She shook her head, blond hair swaying. “Don’t whine, Joshua; it doesn’t become you at all.”  
“I’m not whining. I just want to know what you were going to say about a man that I’ve known almost as long as my folks.”  
She tilted her head toward the door, motioning for him to join her. Once they reached a private alcove in the foyer, she turned to him. “Okay, I’ve got a question.”  
“Well, now that you’ve got me all curious here, Donna, I guess it would be time to ask your question.”  
“What happened six nights ago in St. Louis?”  
“What do you mean, what happened in St. Louis?” His voice raised an octave as he repeated her question, glancing around to make sure no one overheard them. “We had a debate in St. Louis and whipped the competition’s butt, that’s what happened in St. Louis.”  
Rolling her eyes at him, she poked a finger into his suit clad arm. “Joshua, you know that’s not what I mean. Something happened that was bad enough for Margaret to rush back on a private plane and for Mrs. Bartlet to look like death warmed over. Something bad enough for me to have to go on the advance team.”  
“Donna, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but..”  
“Don’t give me that, Josh. I’m not asking you to reveal confidences or share state secrets. I’m just telling you that I know what I saw and heard.” She took a deep breath, looking straight at him. “I was the one who picked up Margaret at the airport, remember? And I saw her absolutely scared to death. And I heard the panic in her voice every time she answered her cell phone on the ride back to the hotel. She tried to hide it, but she didn’t do a very good job, which is out of character for our Margaret.”   
Running his fingers through his hair, he leaned against the textured wall. “Look, Donna, it was a rough night in St. Louis. The Governor had that thing with his ear, Leo was under the gun with the debate planning and fundraising, we were all trying to be everywhere at once, so when Margaret said she could come back early, we jumped on it.  
She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him as he tried to avoid her eyes. “Josh, I have a feeling that‘s the abbreviated version and that‘s there‘s more to this story.”  
“Donna, this is politics; there‘s always more to every story. Tell me something I don‘t already know”  
Lowering her voice, she leaned in closer. “Margaret loves Leo. She would probably die for him. And from what I‘ve observed, I‘m pretty darn sure that he loves her, too. Did you know that?” She watched as his mouth opened and closed several times, his eyes widening. “I guess that was something you didn’t know.”  
****************************  
3:30 AM, Wednesday Morning, After Election 1998  
Slipping off her heels, she slid onto the couch, pulling her long legs up as she straightened her skirt over them. She leaned back against the arm, letting her head rest against the high back as she watched him pace and talk and smile…occasionally. From what she could hear of the conversation, whoever was on the other end of the phone line was not very happy about being awakened at this time of the morning. Welcome to my party, she thought, then smiled slightly as she remembered the real party earlier that evening.  
To say that they were happy to win the Election would be putting it mildly. After he received the concession call and made his acceptance speech, Jed had hugged Leo and told the staff … repeatedly, and often in Latin…how much he loved them all and how proud he was of everyone. She was pretty sure that Josh, Sam, Toby and CJ were still awake and consuming large quantities of alcohol, but at least Donna would keep an eye on them.   
Her smile faded as she remembered seeing Abbey. Sure, the other woman had smiled and laughed and hugged her husband, but there had been something else in her eyes. Something that she herself recognized, because she was feeling it, too: a sense of loss and fear in the middle of victory. She knew why she was feeling this way, but she couldn’t understand Abbey.  
Shaking her head, she pulled herself out of the memories just as she heard him finishing the conversation. Looking up, she met his eyes. “Who was that, Leo?”  
Throwing the phone on the side table, he dropped into the side chair across from her. “David Rosen.”  
“I guess it didn’t go the way the Governor..oops, sorry, the President-Elect…wanted.”  
“Nope.” He let his head drop back against the high back, smiling slightly. “Thank God.”  
“So, does Toby know?”  
“Know that Jed Bartlett tried to get someone else to be Communications Director? I hope to God not. Otherwise, I’ll have more problems on my hands than I can handle, and we’re not even in office yet.”  
She watched as he propped his legs up on the coffee table in front of him, slouching further into the soft upholstery. His eyes were closed, but she could tell he was still wide awake, his mind constantly on the move. The table lamp cast a soft glow over his face, and she could see the fatigue settling in the lines around his mouth and eyes. This was probably the first time he had sat down in almost twenty-four hours, she thought, and she wondered if he had even eaten today.   
“What are you thinking?”  
She stretched her legs, flexing her ankles. “Just wondering if you ate today.”  
He opened one eye, propping his head slightly to look at her. “Will you ever quit worrying? We just won, Margaret.”  
“Yeah, we just won.” She paused, pulling her thoughts together. “But I really don‘t know how to feel. Do you?”   
Her voice was low, but he heard the undercurrent in her tone. “I know.” He sighed, closing his eyes again. “All night long, I tried to not think about it, but it was kinda hard, seeing you ….”  
His voice trailed off. The silence of the room wrapped around them, and she let her own eyes close, trying not to think as she waited. She heard him shift in the chair and then sigh.   
“Margaret.   
She opened her eyes, seeing him leaning forward in the chair. His eyes were looking straight into hers, and she knew at that moment that she could read his thoughts.  
His voice was tense. “Margaret, I know we‘re on thin ice, emotionally and physically. I know I’ve already broken my vows to Jenny once, and I know that I’ve hurt you and kept you in limbo. And both of those things are absolutely killing me on the inside.” Smiling sardonically, he added quietly, “And I thought Josh was the one with the guilt complex.”  
She knew this was coming, and had her words ready, knowing this was the only way out for both of them. “Leo, you were right when we talked the other night. We can’t compromise the Administration. You need to go back to Jenny. Full-time. Make it work if it can. But do whatever you can to make it work.” Her heart pounded, and she wondered if he could hear it across the room. She took a deep breath, her fingers tightly gripping the cushion on the couch. “I told you once at the farm that I would never stand in the way of your marriage, and I won’t now.”   
His eyes widened at her words. “You’re not…”  
She waved her free hand, her lips curling slightly. “I’m not leaving you. As a matter of fact, I’d dare say we’ll be together more over the next four years than we could have imagined.” And this could be heaven or this could be hell, she thought, hearing the lyrics to the song in her mind.  
“I seriously doubt that.” He pressed his fists into his legs, forcing himself to stay seated, knowing that he couldn’t allow himself to cross the room to her. “Are you sure you want to put yourself in this position? You deserve more, you know.”  
She saw the clenched fist, and groaned inwardly, her word slightly more forceful than she wanted them to be. “Leo, stop worrying about hurting me. I know that you … that you love me, that we love each other. I'm okay with things the way they are.” She saw his mouth open, and held her hand up, stopping him, forcing her voice to stay even. “Some people may think that makes me weak or dependant or willing to settle for less, but I don‘t care. I’m content to live in the suburbs of your affection, as Shakespeare would have said.”  
“Well, that’s not fair either.” He dropped back into the chair, his eyes still on hers. “Look, Margaret, if we thought the campaign was mind-numbingly tiring, then the White House will turn everything we know upside down. If you want out, for any reason, I‘ll understand. I won‘t like it, mind you, but I‘ll understand.”  
She smiled slightly, quickly blinking back a tear that she hoped he didn‘t see. “Leo, we’ve lived through the year from hell, and the last nine days have been hell times ten. What’s four more?”  
********************  
The sun was barely a glimmer in the sky as he stood at the window, pulling a long drink from his coffee mug. Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see it was already after six. He was more surprised that the woman on the couch behind him was still asleep. Sure, she’d only been sleeping for two hours, but he knew from personal experience that her internal clock usually had her up by this time, so she must really be tired, physically and emotionally  
He grimaced, gripping the mug with both hands as he turned toward the couch. Pressing his back against the glass, he just watched her sleep, long legs stretched along the couch, red locks falling against her cheek. Taking in the peaceful look on her face, he wanted to stay like this, comforted to see her resting instead of worrying about him.  
He had heard her crying over the past few nights, and cursed himself, again, for hurting her. No matter what she said, he could see how she really felt. He knew that she was just trying to make it easy on both of them, yet they were both smart enough to face reality. There was no way he could tell her that part of him had died earlier, knowing that there was nothing else that he could do. Whether she realized it or not, he couldn’t allow his Margaret to be compromised, wouldn't allow her to be drug through the mudslinging of a rabid press corps hell-bent on destroying anyone and everyone. And he could not, would not, willingly open the doors and damage Jed Bartlet‘s presidency.   
Because this was what men like him did, the force that drove every decision he made. This was the way he lived his life, a sense of duty and honor guiding everything he did. He sighed, knowing that, politically, this was the only thing he could do. The needs of the nation he had fought for had to be placed above his own individual needs. But, personally, he was hurting a woman he loved, no matter what he did. Jenny, Mallory, and now Margaret. But would any of them understand in the end?


	3. History III

Chapter 14

 

Manchester, Bartlet Farm, December 1998 (after the Election)

He could see the flames from the fireplace bouncing in his friend‘s glasses, and he wondered if his words would finally sink in. “Look, sir, you’ve got to decide which way you want to go soon.”

“How soon?” Jed looked up from the notes on his lap, his hand wrapped around a green coffee mug emblazoned with the slogan “New Hampshire: It’s What’s New.”  
“Soon. As in today, soon.”

“What’s the great hurry, Leo?”

He sighed, exasperated. “Because I don’t want it looking like we were scrambling to fill Administration posts because we didn’t think we’d win. That’s just not the picture I want to paint this early in the ballgame. I‘d like for it look like we at least had people in mind.”

“So it’s really that important that I name every cabinet post today?”

Leaning forward in the soft leather chair, he placed his palms against his thighs, looking his friend in the eye. “Sir, we’ve been working on this for months already. Now is the time to put all of that planning into place. Please.”

“Tell me this. Why can’t we just put all the names in a pot and draw out the lucky winners?” A mischievous grin on his face, Jed waved his hand for emphasis. “I hear that works for more important things like Christmas gifts and lotteries.”

“Oh yes, by all means, let’s use that bright idea. I’m sure that would be a great asset to the democracy.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “Would you just take this seriously for a few minutes?”

Standing, Jed sat his mug on the table beside him, patting his pockets. “Before we do that, walk outside with me.”

“I’ve seen the outside, sir. It’s not changed in the past hour, has it?” 

“No, I want to sneak a cigarette, and Abbey will kill me if I smoke in here again.”

Leo sighed loudly as he stood, recognizing the look in Jed’s face and knowing they were not going to get much accomplished this morning. Following him through the French doors out onto the side porch, Leo leaned against the railing, pulling his sports coat tighter against him.

The overcast skies held a threat of coming snow. “It’s got to be twenty degrees out here. You sure Abbey won’t let you smoke inside?”

He quickly lit the cigarette, stubbing out the match against the weathered railing. “Yeah. She keeps going on and on about lungs and air quality and all that crap.” Taking a quick pull, he exhaled, the smoke hanging in the cool air between them. “So you and Jenny gonna get a place in the district?”

“Nah, we’ve already got the place in Arlington. I don’t think we’ll need to move yet.”

“The drive’s not gonna be too much for you?” Jed glanced sideways, a small grin on his face.

He rolled his eyes, again. “I believe I get a driver out of this deal, you know. I’ll use the travel time to review notes and stay two steps ahead of you.” 

“Don’t bet on it.” Flicking the ashes expertly over the railing, he drew another puff. “I’m surprised Jenny’s not here at the farm with us right now.”

Remembering his stilted conversation from yesterday with his wife, Leo looked out over the side pasture, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “She and Mallory are taking advantage of the winter break to catch a week in Spain.” 

“Uh huh. So Mal’s doing okay?”

“Yeah. She’s gonna stay a week, then come back while Jenny meets up with some friends from Europe.” Turning toward his friend, he tilted his head. “What’s the big interest in my family? If this is just a stall tactic, trust me, I can outlast you, as I’ve well proven in the past.”

Jed smiled, lips wrapped around the cigarette for a bare second. “It’s not a stall tactic … well, not a serious stall tactic. I’m just interested in the women in your life, old friend.”

He snorted. “Right. Tell me another one.”

“Speaking of the women in your life, I’m glad Margaret’s with us. She’s looking like she’s got a bit more rest recently.”

Leaning back against the railing, he felt his eyes narrow as he wondered if his friend was probing for information or just genuinely interested. “I think that could be said for all of us, sir, yourself included. At least now we have time for a few weeks to sleep five hours a night and not feel guilty about it.”

“Is she gonna stay on as your assistant?”

“Yeah.” Shifting his feet, he heard the wooden floorboards creak, sharp in the cool silence.

“You forgive me now for calling her last year, you know, since it all worked out in the end?”

Mentally willing himself to keep his voice neutral, he answered, “Yeah. If I have to.”

“You have to.” Jed tossed a grin toward his friend, misinterpreting his stiffness for an aversion to the cold. “Who do you have lined out for operations?”

He relaxed slightly, letting his shoulders drop, more comfortable with this line of questioning. “Josh as my deputy. We‘re still working out the assistant deputies. He wants Donna as his personal assistant.” He shivered again, pushing his hands into his pants pocket, noting that Jed hadn‘t even worn a jacket and was showing no signs of suffering from the weather. “Could we please move this conversation back inside where there is, you know, heat and electricity?”

“Wuss.” 

“Whatever.” Leo let out a sigh of relief as he watched him stub out the cigarette into the stone planter, burying the butt under the forgotten potting soil.

Moving back into the warm den, Jed asked as he reached for his coffee mug and slipped his glasses back over his eyes, “Is that a good idea? Can she handle it?”

Heading toward the fire, Leo looked back, eyes narrowing quizzically. “What are we talking about?” 

“Donna.”

“Oh, yeah.” Feeling the warmth of the flames pushing through his jacket, he let himself stand for just a moment until the chill started to leave. “Well, if the last eight months have been any indication, I’d say she can handle the job and him better than almost anyone else I’ve ever seen. Margaret and I discussed it last night, and we both honestly think Josh would be lost without her.”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience there, old friend.”

“And how long has Mrs. Landingham been with you?”

Leaning back against the solid cherry desk, Jed waved his free hand. “Don’t even try to make that comparison. Dolores Landingham’s more like a combination of an exasperating older sister and frightening mother figure, and I seriously doubt that you or Josh would say that about either one of your assistants.”

“God, no. I’ve got two sisters already and I sure don’t need any help in the mother department.” Dropping into the chair he had vacated earlier, he reached for his coffee mug, wrapping his still-cold palms around the warmth. Pulling a long sip, he watched his friend, almost able to see the questions forming in his mind. Well, I guess now’s the time to see where this is going, he thought, deciding to meet it head-on. “Jed, are you trying to ask me something, in your peculiar convoluted way?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. You seem to be on a fishing expedition, and I’m kinda interested in what you’re using for bait. Or are you still stalling?”

“That’s an interesting metaphor.” Jed pulled his glasses off with one hand, dangling them by his side as he stared at his friend. “Now mind you, up until this point, I really was stalling, but now I wonder what I should be asking.” 

Bracing himself mentally, Leo waited for the next question, wondering what, if anything, Abbey might have told her husband. The logical part of his mind was preparing an appropriate response and argument, but in that split second, he found himself wanting to tell his true feelings for the women in his life, and let the chips fall where they may.

Jed watched his friend with growing curiosity, noting the change in Leo’s eyes over the few moments of silence. Startled, he turned as the door opened and the voices of his wife and his friend’s assistant preceded them into the room. Moving toward Abbey, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Leo stood, buttoning his jacket, a genuine smile on his face as he turned toward Margaret. For a brief moment, he realized he hadn’t seen Leo smile like that in a long while, and he wondered if what he was thinking could be true. Shaking his head quickly, he told himself he was just imagining things, and gave his full attention to the ladies’ plans for lunch.


	4. History III

Chapter 15  
February 14, 1999  
Washington, DC

Rubbing her eyes with one hand, she used the other to slip the key in the lock, clicking the door open. Pushing her way into her apartment, she dropped her briefcase on the floor by the coat rack and shrugged out of her wool overcoat. 

Her heels clattering against the hardwood floors, she moved toward the bedroom, rolling her neck from side to side, feeling the muscles stretch. Passing the doorway, she caught a glimpse of the blinking red light on her answering machine and stopped. Sighing, she detoured toward the living room, not really wanting to talk to anyone but knowing she needed to at least see if the message was important. This better not be another telemarketer, she thought darkly.

Punching the button, she let herself drop onto the overstuffed floral couch as she listened to the first message, quickly forwarding through the offer to sell her a timeshare in Colorado as she kicked off her shoes. The second was no better than the first, and she was about to erase the final message when she heard the tinny voice of the building superintendent coming through the speaker. Sitting up and listening as the disembodied voice told her she had a package waiting in his office, she wondered who could have sent her something this time of year. It’s not my birthday and it’s not Christmas, so that leaves out my brother, she thought. 

Slipping her shoes back on, she grabbed her keys and made her way down to the first floor and the super’s office. Fortunately, he was in no mood for small talk, so she quickly retrieved the small wrapped box, noticing that it had been delivered by private messenger and required a signature. Her curiosity piqued, she told herself it was probably just a. wrong delivery. Carrying the box with her into her bedroom, she laid it on the bed, leaning over to turn on her CD player. As the strains Vivaldi’s Spring filled the room, she quickly changed into her pajamas and settled against the headboard before carefully removed the outer wrapping. 

Her eyes widened as she saw the familiar box and logo quickly appear, and her fingers trembled as she gently opened the hinged lid. The light from her table lamp glinted off of the array of stones, and she gingerly ran her fingertip over the gold and diamond bracelet. Pulling out the note slipped against the velvet, she felt a tear slide down her cheek as she recognized the slanted writing. “Now you have something for both wrists. I wouldn‘t want to be accused of playing favorites. L,” she whispered as she read aloud. 

I had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day, she thought, overwhelmed. She was still staring at the note and the bracelet, her mind almost numb, when she finally comprehended the ringing of her phone. Shaking herself, she automatically reached for the receiver on her bedside table, glancing quickly at the caller ID, even though she had a pretty good idea who was on the other end.

“You know we’re gonna talk about this.” Her voice not much louder than a whisper, she pressed the phone tighter against her ear. 

His chuckle was warm against her ear. “That’s what you said the last time.”

“How did you know I had it? I just left half an hour ago.”

“You think I’d leave something like that alone with your super? I’ve had a guard on that thing all evening. He just called me.”

She sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheek. “Leo, you shouldn’t have. Not now.”

“Margaret, don’t tell me that.” His gruff voice lowered, and she could hear the noise of the city in the background. “If anybody deserves something wonderful for Valentine’s Day, it’s you. Good Lord, woman, you’ve put up with an unbelievable amount of crap, and we’ve only been in office for three weeks.”

“Leo, it’s too much.” She caught her breath quickly, trying to stop the sob that escaped from her throat. Pulling her legs up, she hugged her knees to her chest, the velvet box trapped against her.

“Oh Margaret, don’t cry, okay? Please.” 

She nodded, not able to talk and not even realizing that he couldn’t see her. Her silence carried across the phone lines, and he finally broke it. “It matches the watch. You wouldn’t want to break up a matched set, would you?”

“Leo…”

“Humor me, Margaret. I know this hasn’t been easy…for either of us. I just wanted to let you know that I remembered.” She could hear him sigh softly. “And, whether you think I do or not, I know what you’ve done over the past few weeks.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t think I couldn’t tell that you’ve organized all of the assistants and kept everyone and everything flowing smoothly. Other than Mrs. Landingham, you’re the only one who knows what to do. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

She smiled slightly, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the padded headboard. “I don’t know what impresses me more.”

Now it was his turn to question her. “What do you mean?”

Stretching her legs out in front of her, she pulled her favorite pillow against her side, never moving the precious box. “That you got me a bracelet or that you remembered Valentine’s Day at all.”

“Look, woman, I’m not totally helpless, you know.” She could imagine the grin crossing his face, and wondered if he was picturing hers. “I do manage to run the government of the United States without totally screwing it up.”

“Yeah, you and 1100 other people in the White House.” 

“Yeah, well, there’s only one of those 1100 people that I care enough about to be talking to at this time at night, so…” His voice tapered off, and she could hear the soft whir of a car engine.

She let her eyes blink open, staring across the room, not focusing on anything in particular, her fingertip still running across the stones. “You finally headed home?”

“Yeah.” The silence stretched between them. Shifting slightly against the cushion, she felt the velvet box press warmly against her thigh. His sigh reached her ear, and his voice broke the quiet. “It‘s almost midnight, Mary Margaret. Get some sleep and we‘ll start again in the morning, okay?”

Her fingers tightened around the receiver. “Okay.” She whispered, “Be careful.”

“I always am.” 

Laying the cordless phone down on the table beside her, she just sat there, staring at the jewels nestled against the royal blue velvet. Finally giving into her fatigue and closing her eyes, she scooted down against the mattress and laid her head on her pillow, her grasp tight around the open box. A small smile graced her lips as her fingers touched the note, and one thought ran through her mind: he remembered Valentine’s Day. More importantly, he remembered her.


	5. History III

Chapter 16

September 1999 (Thank the good Lord, we finally made it to Season 1)  
Washington, DC

Her phone rang at 5:04 AM. Not that the blaring woke her. She had been up for at least forty-five minutes, knowing that if she wanted to get anything done, she needed to be in the White House early. She had no doubt who was ringing her; his early morning calls had become more frequent over the last month. Glancing at caller ID on the cordless phone just in case, she clicked quickly. “You rang?”

“Did I wake you?” 

“Does it sound like you woke me?” She smiled to herself as she moved back toward her bathroom, her stocking covered feet quiet against the carpet. 

His chuckle floated over the connection. “No.”

“Then why do you always ask me that same question when you call me at this time of the morning?” Quickly checking her make-up in her lighted mirror, she added a touch of lipstick before she closed her cosmetic bag.

“’Cause one of these times I’m gonna call and you’re gonna chew me out for interrupting your beauty sleep.”

“Since when do I chew you out?” A quick laugh escaped her lips. “And beauty sleep? Ha. When was the last time either one of us saw that?”

“South Carolina.”

“Primary or Election?”

“Primary. And trust me, Margaret, those looks you give me are worse than any chewing out you‘d ever do.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” She flipped the brush through her red hair, making a mental note that it was time for a trim. “Any special reason you called, Leo, or did you just get bored with the crossword this morning?"

“No, I just called to tell you I’m on my way in to the office. Seems like your president got himself in a bit of a snafu this morning. And the crossword needs help, too.”

Ignoring the second remark, she focused in on the first. “What happened?”

“Seems like he chose to run into a tree and wreck my bike.”

She stopped in mid-stride across her bedroom. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s just fine, just something about a sprained ankle. Of course, my bike’s a goner.” He paused, and she could hear him shuffling papers. “Look, are you ready to come in? We’ll swing by and pick you up if you are.”

Hearing the unspoken request in his voice, she reached for her suit jacket. Like these phone calls, their morning & evening rides had become more frequent over the past month, and she had been expecting the question ever since the phone rang. “Yeah, come on by. I’ll meet you out front.” 

“Good. We’re about five minutes out.”  
***************************************  
She climbed into the back of the black sedan just as he finished yelling into the cell phone. Watching as he dropped the phone on the seat beside him, she shook her head faintly as the door closed behind her, wondering how he could already be this upset so early in the morning.

Turning his head, he met her eyes. “You wanna tell me how he could run into a tree?”

Turning slightly toward him, she automatically clicked her seatbelt in place, smoothing her silk skirt against her legs. “You really want me to answer that question?”

“Well, I wish someone would. Dammit, Margaret, I loaned the man my brand new bicycle under the promise that he bring it back in the condition in which it left my possession. Do you know what he had the nerve to tell me this morning?" His voice rising, he waved the papers in his hand, narrowly missing the side window. "He told me that he was pretty sure that there was a defect in the steering mechanism and that he was considering suing me for forcing him to use such a death trap. Something about pain and suffering and loss of consortium. I‘d like to loss of consortium him….”

She bit the inside of her lip, doing her best not to laugh or even smile as she continued to give him her best serious assistant expression. Her downfall, however, was when she met his eyes and saw the look of outrage in them; then she laughed out loud.

Looking over the top of his glasses, eyes flashing, he growled, “I’m glad one of us is having fun with this, Margaret.” 

“Oh, Leo, we both know the President's accident-prone. If you can’t see the humor in this, then you’re just taking life too seriously.” Biting back another laugh, she swallowed, becoming serious as she asked him, “Was he upset because of…”

Sighing, he folded his papers, dropping them into the briefcase at his feet. “Partly, yeah.”

“Has he changed his mind?”

Pulling off his glasses, he dropped them “Not yet.”

She bit her lower lip, her words suddenly soft. “Look, Leo, if it hadn’t been for Josh….”

“Don’t give me that look, Margaret.” He lowered his voice, leaning closer to her, staring into her eyes. “You know I’ll do whatever it takes to save him. I won’t let him, won't let anyone, be sacrificed, okay?”

She bobbed her head, her eyes never leaving his as she automatically leaned toward him. “I know.” 

He held her gaze, and she let herself smile at him, not wanting to start the day on a harsh note. She could see the city streets moving by through the window beside him, but she felt cocooned inside the car, his words and presence wrapping around her. 

She watched as his smile grew, his eyes crinkling slightly. Part of her recognized the subtle shift in their relationship over the past few months, and how the times in the car at morning and night had become their escape. The office was sacred, and they both maintained a tight professional appearance while there. But these times were different. 

And the annoying logical part of her mind warned her, repeatedly, that they were climbing back onto risky ground. She could tell that things weren't going well with him and Jenny, but she had made a conscious decision to not ask. So sue me, she thought to herself, I'm taking what I can get right now.

The ringing of his cell phone jarred them both, and she blinked as he broke eye contact to answer it. Shifting back into the leather, she reached for a notepad from her briefcase, automatically shifting into assistant mode. Listening as he barked questions about Cuba and refugees, she jotted her to-do list for the morning, making a quick note to check on Donna as soon as possible. If her observations were correct, she was betting that Josh and Donna’s relationship was becoming a lot more than just boss and assistant, and Donna was probably experiencing an unbelievable amount of stress this morning. At least they’re both single, she thought, smiling tightly.

Feeling his fingers briefly press against her suit-clad arm, she looked up, watching as he turned the phone into his shoulder for a moment. His eyes met hers. “Do me a favor this morning, okay? I’ve got to run over to the OEOB first thing, so get everyone in for staff as soon as possible.”

Nodding quickly, she let her smile linger as she lowered her eyes to her notepad, wondering if he even realized that his hand was still on her arm as he went back to the phone call.


	6. History III

Chapter 17  
September 1999  
For a few seconds, he debated the merits of waking her at this time of the morning, not wanting to deny her the few hours of sleep that at least one of them should be getting. Knowing that he was probably being selfish, but not caring, he pressed the speed dial on the cell phone. 

He could hear the click on the other end, then finally heard her almost inaudible voice. “Hello.”

“Hey, it’s me.” Frowning, he could hear her shuffle the phone, and could almost imagine her turning on the bedside light. 

Her sleep-drugged voice mumbled, “It’s 2:02 AM, Leo.”

Regret tinged his words, and he wanted to apologize and let her go back to sleep. “I know. I‘m sorry to call…” 

She interrupted, her voice slightly more coherent to his ears. “You didn’t ask if you woke me.”

“Kinda figured I did, so didn’t want to belabor the point.” He smiled briefly, leaning his head back against the leather headrest. Trust Margaret to remember that. 

“Why are you calling me at 2:02 in the morning?” 

Her yawn came through the phone, and he wondered if she was still snuggled under the covers. Well, his next words would probably have her sitting up soon. “I’m on my way back to the White House.”

As he predicted, her tone changed, suddenly serious and stronger, apprehensive. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, still not sure if this had been a good idea to call. “Morris Tolliver’s transport exploded as it was headed toward Jordan.”

“Oh my God, Leo. Was he…?”

The darkness seemed to close in around him as he answered her unfinished question. “Yeah.”

“He had a baby, Leo. You just showed me the picture this morning.” 

“I know.” The anguish in her voice was almost palpable, and again, he wanted to kick himself. “Look, I shouldn’t have called you, I’m sorry.”

“No, Leo, I’m okay.” He heard her exhale a deep breath, and felt himself doing the same. 

Her voice leveled out, calming. “You need me to come in?”

Pushing the side button, he adjusted the heat level in the car, wondering how it could have gotten so cold in September. “Not really, but….”

“But what?”

“But I want you to come in, want you to be there.” Giving words to his thoughts, he really didn’t doubt her response. 

Her words were immediate in his ear. “Give me about thirty minutes or a bit longer, depending on how soon I can get a cab tonight.”

He automatically shook his head, not even caring that she couldn’t see him. “No, I don’t want you taking a cab this time of night, or morning as it may be. I’ll send a car for you. Shifting slightly as the car turned, he knew they were within a few blocks of the White House.

“Leo, I‘m a big girl, I can take a cab.” Her words were kind, but the undercurrent in her tone didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Dammit, Margaret, I don’t need anything else to worry about tonight. I’ve got enough on my hands with having to tell the President, and I don’t want to lose it completely because you got mugged by some crazy lunatic at 2 in the morning.” He tightened his hand around the phone, surprising even himself at the intensity of his words. Closing his eyes for just a second, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “Please let me send the car, okay?”

He could hear her quick breaths, and finally she answered. “Yeah. You okay?”

She deserved an honest answer, even if he didn‘t want to admit it. “I will be.”

“I‘ll see you in a few minutes. You‘re gonna do fine, Leo. We‘re gonna do fine.” Her voice was low and smooth, a warmth seeping through his ears to his mind.

Disconnecting the call, he quickly dialed again, arranging for a car to pick her up. Tucking the phone into his coat pocket, he turned to watch the sleeping city pass by the moving car. His mind compared the differences in Margaret’s and Jenny’s response to what had happened tonight. He frowned, again, thinking of how Jenny had told him to let someone else handle this problem. As if having an American military plane blown out of the sky by a possible act of terrorism was a simple everyday problem that could be assigned to some junior level staffer. Shaking his head at the mental images he was concocting, he forced himself to concentrate on the true problem at hand, Margaret’s parting words still floating in his mind. 

***********************  
Hearing the office door open, he glanced up, not surprised to see the coffee mug in her hand. Her footsteps were quiet as she moved toward him, smiling as she met his eyes and handed him the mug. 

Automatically wrapping his palms around the warmth, he leaned back in the chair, swiveling slightly. “What time is it?”

“About five minutes ‘til three.” 

Taking a sip of the coffee, his eyes followed her as she moved to stand in front of the window, her gaze on something unseen in the shadows. He wondered how she had managed to get ready so quickly, and allowed himself a moment to take in her red hair pulled back into a casual twist, her long neck bare. “They ready in the Roosevelt Room yet?”

She turned slightly, leaning against the window frame, her voice low and husky, still holding a slight tinge of sleep. “Josh said give them about ten or twenty more minutes.”

“I’m gonna have to wake the President then.” His words were laced with a sense of finality, his fingers slowly tapping against the arm of the chair.

“I know.” She watched him bring the mug to his lips again, his face illuminated by the television screen beside him. The CNN anchor appeared animated, bright but voiceless, muted against the cacophony of sound coming from the West Wing.

“He’s gonna sink so deep inside himself, it’ll take a bulldozer to dig him out.” A grimace crossed his face, and her stomach tightened at the slump of his shoulders. 

Pushing off the window, she walked to the door leading to the Oval Office and gently closed it, making sure she heard the click. “Maybe not, Leo. Maybe he’ll level off and be able to handle it.”

“You think?” His eyes followed her movements, taking a strange sense of comfort in her simple unhurried actions.

Moving to the outer hallway door and then to her office door, she closed them both, the bustling sounds from the hallway quickly disappearing. Measuring her steps precisely as she moved toward him, the beginnings of a smile played at the corner of her lips as she gently shook her head. “No, not really.” Walking around his desk, she leaned back against it, her eyes looking straight into his, her knees almost touching his. “I just wanted to give you something to hold on to.” 

She reached out and carefully removed the almost empty mug from his hand, placing it on the desk behind her. She felt, rather than saw, his fingers tightly grip hers as he slowly pulled her forward into his lap. Her eyes closed as she let her weight settle against him and his arms pulled her closer. 

Letting out a deep sigh, he whispered, “Thanks, Margaret.” He ran his hand up her neck, her arms wrapping around him as they both leaned back into the chair.

“For what?” Her lips next to his ear, she bent her head toward his, feeling his muscles relax for just a moment as they held each other.

“For everything.” Emotion filled his voice, rumbling in his chest as he turned to face her. “For giving up your few hours of sleep. For knowing what I needed before I did. For just being here with me tonight.”

Their eyes separated by mere inches, he could see each eyelash as she blinked. “Where else would I be, Leo?” 

 

His fingers buried into her hair, sliding out the clip that held the twist. Slowly leaning in, he let his lips gently brush hers, feeling her smile against his. Her palm cupped his cheek, her thumb smoothly stroking his skin as she pushed closer, not caring about anything but holding him.

The ringing of the phone intruded loudly, and her hand instantly reached for the receiver, sliding it to her ear as she pulled away slightly. “Leo McGarry’s office.” She listened for a moment, then hung up as she turned toward him, his fingers still on her neck as she met his eyes again.

“It’s time.”


	7. History III

Chapter 18  
One week later (Picks up with "5 Votes Down)  
Wednesday Morning  
Sliding into the car, she glanced at the frown creasing his forehead, tilting her head slightly. “What’s got you in a mood, Leo? Are you still complaining about the financial disclosures?”  
He watched as she settled into the leather seat beside him, her black skirt riding up slightly as she crossed her legs. Watching her tug it back into place, he sighed to himself, knowing he was going to have to tell her now. Head lowered, he mumbled, “I think I screwed up, Margaret.”  
Her head jerked toward him, her eyes widening as she felt panic rising up inside. “What do you mean, screwed up?” Her voice was tight, even to her own ears, as visions of St. Louis danced in her head.  
Her words sunk in quickly, and he started shaking his head as he recognized the fear wrapped in her words. “No, not that way.” Seeing the relief flood across her face, he wondered how he could tell her what he had done. Taking a deep breath, he let the words rush out. “I forgot my anniversary.”  
Logically, she knew that she wasn’t responsible for the problems between Leo and Jenny, but that didn’t stop the guilt from suddenly overwhelming her. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she spoke. “I didn’t remind you. I forgot. With all of the confusion over the vote, the problems with the attack….”  
His words growled in the confined space. “Dammit, Margaret, it’s not your fault. Good God, woman, I don’t expect you to have to tell me what day I got married.”   
“We were distracted, Leo. We were distracted by the air strike, by the thing with the…” Her voice lost strength, and ended in a whisper. “We were distracted by each other.”  
“Look at me, Margaret.” Waiting for her eyes to meet his, he then continued, his words measured but calm. “We’ve not done anything wrong, okay?”   
Her head started shaking again, regret filling her voice as she frowned at him, her breathing quick. “There’s gotta be a solution to this.”   
“What can I do? I can’t turn back the clock to yesterday, or to when those stupid congressmen started causing me a boatload of problems.”  
“We can’t blame Congress for this one.”  
He glanced sharply at her. “There is no “we” in this problem, Margaret. I’m not dragging you into the failures in my marriage.” He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he gripped the edge of the seat. “And as much as I’d like to blame Congress, trust me, if this hits the press, Congress will definitely find a way to blame me and this Administration for the decline of moral values in America.”  
Her heart sinking, she clasped her hands tightly in her lap as she met his eyes, keeping her voice as calm as she possible could. “Then you have to stop it. You have to fix it.”  
“How?” The one word was suspended in the air between them.   
She forced her mind to go on autopilot, not allowing herself to think about what she was saying. “Get on your cell and find one of those pieces of jewelry you seem to be fond of.” Grabbing her notepad from her bag, she started jotting down quick notes, not meeting his eyes. “You’ll need dinner, music, whatever it takes to salvage this.”   
She felt the car stop at the gate, and heard him dialing. This is for the best, she repeated over and over in her mind. This is for the best. She smiled sarcastically to herself as the old cliché crossed her thoughts -- if you love someone, let him go. I guess I’m going to have to let him go. But, she asked herself, what if it kills me in the process?  
Climbing from the car, she followed him into the building, listening as he added his own ideas, barely even hearing herself as she responded. She felt a grimace cross her face when he reminded her that he didn’t drink champagne, and a part of her mind comprehended the irony of that statement. It was that very problem that had created these complications in the first place.  
***************************  
Wednesday Night  
His head bent, he stepped into the darkened office, crossing to his desk. Dropping his briefcase on the floor, he slowly clicked on the desk lamp, illuminating the small area. Sighing deeply, he dropped into the chair, leaning his head back against the leather, not bothering to remove his overcoat.  
“You wanna tell me what the hell you think you’re doing?”  
He literally jumped at the words, swiveling quickly as he stared across the darkened room at the woman sitting at the table. “Good God Almighty, Abbey. Are you trying to put me in an early grave?”  
“Oh no, you’re doing a great job on that front without my help.” Scooting the chair back, she stood, walking into the light.  
His heart still pounding, he forced himself to catch his breath. Looking at her face, he exhaled slowly, frowning. “Let me guess. Jenny called you.”  
“You guessed correctly.” Her words were clipped, her arms crossed over her chest.  
He started shaking his head, leaning back into the wingback chair once again. “Abbey, don’t start. Not tonight, okay? There’s a whole lot more to this story.”  
“Oh, trust me, I realize that part.” He watched as leaned her hip against his desk, her hands now on her hips. Her words held less accusations and more questions this time, though. “I just want to know what you’re doing here, alone in your office, when you should be with someone else.”  
His short laugh was harsh in the otherwise calm room “What if I’m actually relieved that it’s over? What if I don’t want to be with her?”  
“Which her are we talking about?” Her eyes met his as she shook her head softly, her brunette hair gently gliding against her shoulders. “In the name of all that is holy, Leo, don’t wait much longer. Go to Margaret. Now.”  
He stilled in the chair, his fingers gripping the arms tightly. The words seemed to grind out of his throat. “What if it‘s too late? Why would she even want me now?”  
“’Cause she loves you.” She paused, letting the words hang over them for a moment. “Because she knows you love her. And trust me, Leo, we women can deal with a lot of crap when there’s love involved.”  
The chair creaked slightly as he leaned forward, his shoulders straightening as he placed his elbows on the desk. “You know, I was thinking about the women in my life as I walked back from OEOB tonight. And all three of them were in my home last night. Jenny was there physically, Mallory’s pictures were everywhere, and Margaret’s name was spoken aloud.” His eyes   
lifted, taking a small amount of comfort in the compassion he saw reflected in her gaze. “And yet, it was Margaret that I was thinking about, it was her that I was worried about, last night and tonight. I don’t want her to feel responsible for this. I love her too much.”  
A small smile slipped across Abbey’s lips as she leaned forward, placing her hand on his for a moment. “Shouldn’t that tell you something, Leo? It’s time, Leo.”   
*****************************************  
Wednesday Night/Thursday Morning  
He stood outside her apartment building, wondering if she would even answer the door. Glancing at his watch again, he knew she was probably already in bed since it was two o’clock in the morning.   
His steps heavy, he climbed the few stairs into the foyer, using the keycard she had given him for emergencies to gain access. Each footfall in the empty hallway moved him closer to the elevator, and before he realized it, he was standing outside her apartment.  
He stared at the heavy walnut door, the gold numbers perfectly centered, the only thing that now stood between him and Margaret. A sudden feeling of doubt swept through him, and his hand quivered as he reached out and rang the doorbell.  
Curled on her couch, tightly clutching a throw pillow, she thought she had imagined the peal of the doorbell. The light of the small table lamp cast a pale glow in the otherwise darkened room as she slowly straightened her pajama clad legs, reaching for her robe at the end of the couch.   
Padding to the door, her bare feet quiet against the carpeted floor, she stole a glance through the peephole. She wondered if her heart had stopped beating for a moment, then slowly placed her hand on the lock.  
Leaning one arm against the doorframe for what seemed like an eternity, he finally heard the click of the deadbolt. The door opened a few inches, and he saw her eyes before anything else.   
Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen.. Oh my God, he thought, her eyes. As she opened the door wider, those eyes seemed to bore into him, and he suddenly realized that he no longer cared what people thought or what the press would do. He just didn’t want her to cry any more.   
Pulling her robe tighter, she felt the tears slide down her cheeks again, following well-worn tracks. Wiping them roughly, she watched him watch her, not able to identify the look on his face. Swallowing hard, her voice tight, she whispered, “What are you doing here?”  
“Can I come in, Margaret?” His words were jagged, begging.  
She moved back slightly, allowing him to pass by her into the small foyer. Clicking the door closed behind them, she turned to him, the faint light from the living room illuminating his slumped shoulders and the fatigue in his face.   
Shaking her head slightly, she whispered, “It‘s late, Leo.” Carefully moving past him without touching him, she stepped into the living room, hearing his footsteps behind her.   
Glancing around the room, he was almost overwhelmed by the sense of peace he felt, blues and greens flowing together in the open room. The pillow and throw lay crumpled on the oversize couch, and he grimaced, knowing she hadn’t been to bed, and knowing why.  
He watched as she stood in front of the window, her back to him, the room eerily silent. Part of him wanted to tell her to just forget him, to not worry about him any more. But the other part, the part that was going to win, wanted to grab her and hold to her forever. Swallowing softly, he sighed heavily. “Margaret, I lied to you this morning.”  
Her shoulders stiffened under the green silk robe, but she didn’t turn around. He could hear her shallow breaths in the still room, and he forced himself to continue, knowing that he had to tell her the truth before anything else. “Jenny left me last night. For good.”  
Her sob tore through the room, and he took the few steps needed across the room, spinning her shoulder quickly. Her voice was ragged as she lifted her face to his, her shoulders bent. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
His hand sunk into her hair, pulling her toward him . He felt her fall against him, her sobs hard against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he felt his own tears wet on his cheeks. “You don’t have to cry anymore, Mary Margaret.” Her arms snaked around his waist, and her head buried into his neck “God, if I had been smart, Margaret, I wouldn’t have made the colossal mistake that I did. I would have done what my heart was telling me to do last November, the election be damned.”  
Her breath fluttered against his neck. “Are you sure?”   
He nodded against her head, feeling her hair soft against his chin. “I’m absolutely positive. I love you, Margaret.” Lifting her chin, he smiled into her eyes, feeling her warm hand slide up his neck, tightening possessively as her smile finally reached her eyes. Leaning in, he brushed his lips across hers, her cheeks wet against his.   
She felt the softness of his lips against hers, and sighed almost imperceptively, pulling him toward her as she pressed her lips to his. She could feel her smile widen as the kiss deepened, pulling back as he slowly broke from her. “Wow.”  
“Yeah, wow.” His grin spread, and she gently stroked his face, her fingertips lingering on his eyelids. He reached up, tucking her hand in his as he pulled them to the couch. Sliding quickly out of his overcoat and suit coat, he threw them on the rocking chair before he settled beside her. “I just need to hold you, okay?”  
Like she would deny him anything right now, she thought to herself. She smiled, her voice a bare whisper in his ear. “Oh yeah, that’s okay.”  
He ran his hand through her hair, feeling the soft strands tangle in his fingers as she sunk against him. “I met with Hoynes last night.”  
Her arms wrapped around him again as she let her body mold against him, tucked between him and the back of the couch. “I know. I set up the meeting, remember?”  
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he chose his words carefully, wanting her to know everything but not wanting to ruin the mood. “He’s got an AA meeting on Wednesday nights in the OEOB.”  
“I know.” Her words were mumbled against his shirt, her fingers sliding up and down his side slowly.  
“You do?” Amazement filled his voice as he turned her face toward his. “How?”  
Nodding her head against his shoulder, her hands moved up his shirt to slowly loosen the navy tie. “I know where most of the AA meetings are in government buildings in Washington, Leo. Especially the ones that would look kindly upon you.”  
He raised an eyebrow as his fingers glided down across the silk, stopping on the sash. “Why?”  
She shrugged her shoulders, a wry smile hovering on her lips. “Because I’ve been feeling like I might need to know that information.”  
Stretching his legs, he toed off his shoes, hearing them fall to the carpeted floor as he reached for the forgotten throw, covering them both. “I went tonight.”  
“And?” Reaching a hand up, she draped his tie over the back of the couch, her eyes never leaving his.  
“And I’m going back next week.”  
The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a pale glow across her face as she smiled slightly. “Okay.”  
Settling into the cushions, he just relaxed, immersing himself in the feeling of her body lying next to his. His voice reflective and low, he finally murmured, “Ya know, when I met with John last night, I flat out told him that Jenny and I were splitting up. Those were the words I used. I think part of me knew right then that I didn’t want to get back together with her. I didn’t say we were separated, or that we were just having problems.” His arm tightened around her, his fingers playing in her hair. “It’s over, Margaret. I knew last night it was you that I wanted.”  
She dropped her head to his chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat, needing to feel him. “I thought I had lost you this time. I thought you wanted to end this, to end whatever we had.”   
He frowned, shaking his head at the uncertainty in her voice, mentally berating himself for putting her through this. “I’ll admit that I don’t understand it all, Margaret. And I know there will still be some problems, and I don’t want to hurt Mallory.” His words floated against her ear, “But our history is in the past. It’s time to move into the future, together.”  
Blinking away the tears that had started again, she whispered, “Stay with me tonight? We’ve only got a few hours, and we can at least hold each other while we sleep.”  
Rolling slightly, he shifted his legs against hers, tilting her chin up so he could see her eyes. His voice low, he tightened his arm around her, not wanting to let her go. “I’d like to hold you every night for the rest of my life, Margaret.”  
Her smile spread across her face as she gently kissed him, murmuring against his lips, “Forever sounds good to me, Leo.”  
THE END! FINIS!

More is coming in the Sequel - "In Sunshine or in Shadow."


End file.
